Dissect - S9E12 - Circles by Mac Miller

Episode Date: January 18, 2022

We resume our season-long analysis of Mac Miller’s Swimming In Circles with the opening track of his posthumous album Circles. Follow Dissect on Tiktok, Instagram, and Twitter. This season includes discussion of substance misuse and addiction. For resources on these topics, visit spotify.com/resources. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Everything ends. But what do endings even mean? At the time of recording Swimming, Mac Miller had amassed such a wealth of new material that it became clear not all of it could fit on a single album. And some of this material showcased an as-yet-unheard side of Mack's ever-evolving artistry. This new color on its musical spectrum was more Bob Dylan than it was Big L, more singer-songwriter than rap. Mack then decided that Swimming would have a conceptual companion album called Circles,

a dedicated space for his more intimate expressions, another end linked to a new beginning. Unfortunately, Mack's passing in September of 2018 left the project unfinished, but the material was too strong and too important to Mack to be left unheard. And so with very mindful, loving care, Mack's family, management, and close collaborators worked behind the scenes throughout 2019 to complete the album based on their conversations with Mac about the project. And on January 17, 2020, two days before what would have been, Ben Mack's 28th birthday, Circles was brought to life. One final gift to the world from the spirit of Mac Miller. From Spotify, I'm Cole Kushna, and this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis

broken into short digestible episodes. Today we begin our serialized examination of Mac Miller's circles. So much of what we know about the process behind bringing circles to life comes from the accounts documented in Donna Claire Chesman's The Book of Mac, the only family-approved book released after his passing. It's in the book of Mac that we learned that circles spawned from the fact that Mac had too many good songs to fit on just one album. According to Mack's longtime engineer Victor Weinstein, who Mack had worked with since 2013, quote, Circles came as a byproduct of the number of songs we had that existed in an alternate world we were working on. Mac made the hard decision late in the swimming cycle to

create circles because so many of our favorite songs, if they're all to be on swimming, we would have like 20-something tracks. We had to figure out a plan B so some of the stuff we were equally excited about could live, somewhere and be championed in the same way as everything we ended up putting on swimming. Who knows? He might have had this plan since he was a kid, unquote. Indeed, it does seem like Mack had something like a Circles plan for a while. To quote Mack's longtime friend Justin Boyd, Mac was like, Circles is going to be my singer-songwriter album. He talked about that for years. He always wanted to do that, unquote.

Still, even with Mack's vision for the album being something he discussed with multiple people, There were tough decisions to be made after his passing. Generally speaking, posthumous albums have mixed reputations at best, as there's always unanswered questions about the artist's intent and how they would feel about their work being released without them involved. But Circles was different. To quote Max publicist Nick Deerle, ultimately, the reason why the core team felt comfortable releasing circles

was a combination of factors. First and foremost, we knew the body of work was important for Malcolm for people to hear. Two, the extent to which the body of work had already come together. There was a definite template in place and a degree to which a lot of the songs were finished. Had that second point not been the case, that would have changed the landscape in making the decision. Three, between John Bryan and Vic, Jeff, and obviously the family and the Clancy's, the extent of their conversations and the degree they felt they understood the directive based on their conversations with Malcolm for how the album should be finished.

It was really a confluence of those three factors making everyone feel like it was worth proceeding and seeing through, unquote. There were close to 40 songs that were eligible for the album, all of them at different stages of completion. The vast majority of the remaining production work was completed by producer, composer, and multi-instrumentalist John Bryan. Brian worked closely with Mack on swimming, and it was clear that Mack admired and respected Brian immensely.

John Brian, legend, right? The amount of incredible records that guy has touched. This is the thing is, it's like being around people that really, like, really love music. Like, not like, oh, yeah, I love it, but, like, really, like, that's what they do is so inspiring. And that man, it was so incredible to be able to sit there and bounce ideas off him and work on music. I was just 100% in from the get-go. He was really, really wonderful in the studio. He had a few qualities about him in general that made the process of working nice. The first one has nothing to do with his immense talent. He was kind. He's one of

those people, and I've met a few where the instantaneous reaction of humans was that you pretty much fell in love with him instantly. If it was a friendship level, it was like, oh my God, I love that guy. He left the first night, and a guy I work with all the time who's seen so many people come and go. And I just said, man, I really like him. He's like, me too. The concept of circles was one that represent a spectrum of themes in Mack's life. Among them was the album's singer-songwriter sound and how that felt like a circular journey back to Mack's musical roots. To again quote Vic Weinstein, swimming in a circle meant rediscovering yourself and finding your way back from where you came, how a lot of the singer-songwriter stuff was also a part of where he came from.

Before he decided to rap, he was in bands. He loved to sing. He loved to play the piano. He also felt that contributed to the idea of a circle because that's where he came from. Also, it meant part of his humanity, being able to get back to himself. There were emotionally some tough times for him throughout his process of releasing albums. Him finally coming to peace was the idea of a circle. The idea of a circle became so relevant in so many different ways to him. That's why it became a no-brainer that it needed to be titled such. It was a way. was one of those things he didn't have to look for. He loved it. Appropriately, Circles begins with its title track, produced by Mac and John Bryan.

Interestingly, the song revolves around a chord progression played by Mac himself on bass guitar. He plays high up on the bass, plucking full chords, creating a thick, unique texture. Typically, bass lines are reinforcements of a song's harmony. That is, they follow a more prominent instrument like a keyboard, piano, or guitar. While absolutely essential to a song's balance, the bass isn't usually the upfront star of the show. but on circles it is. There's even a second bass track added over these chords that plays a fill. According to John Bryan, what we hear on the album is exactly what Mack initially played for him.

Brian only added a subtle tapping brush symbol and light vibraphone. In terms of production, it's hard to think of a song in Mack's entire catalog that is as minimal as circles. This, in combination with the song's moderately slow tempo, completely exposes Mac's singing and lyrics. There's nowhere to hide, and it doesn't seem like Mac is looking to do so, as he comes in singing some of the most pointed lyrics of his career. Mack begins singing, well, this is what it looked like right before you fall. With the album's opening line, we immediately find yet another connection to swimming. Recall that album ended with Matt comparing himself to a circle.

going back to where he was from. We also discovered that the phrase, So It Goes, Mack's final words on the album, is a homophone for circles. These two lyrical links created a bridge into circles the album, but they are also immediately followed by a musical outro Mac described as the Ascension into Heaven. This final rise or ascent seemed to rap swimming in a circle,

because if you start the album over, you begin with the song Come Back to Earth, the come down from the rise at the album's end. But with the opening line of circles, remarkably, Mack has found yet another way to link an end to a new beginning, as the address is being at some great height, preparing for a fall, picking up right where swimming left off. There are only a few songs we know for sure that Matt composed specifically for the Circles albums, and this opening track was one of them. Vic Weinstein said, quote,

Circles the song was definitely made for Circles, obviously the lyrics, he was consciously making that world, unquote. While we don't know whether or not Mac planned this to be the first track of the album. Knowing his long history of linking the beginnings and ends of his records, it's hard not to speculate that it was planned. In any case, like we heard throughout swimming, Mack is right away establishing the circular oscillation between highs and lows. Having reached many highs before, he's already preparing himself for the fall he knows is coming. Cleverly, with this line Mac utilizes a bit of text painting, which is when the music or melody reflects the words being sung. When he says the word fall, the melody falls or drops a fourth,

the largest downward leap in the entire song. Matt continues the verse honing in on the moments before the fall, singing, stumbling around, you've been guessing your direction, next step, you can't see at all. There's multiple images Matt could be painting here. Stumbling around and guessing your direction might be someone walking in the dark, someone walking under the influence, or someone generally lost and actively trying to find their destination. Any image we choose to imagine, the existential undercurrent is clear. We stumble through life, doing our best to make good decisions, to fulfill our goals, to find our desired destinations, until we ultimately take that final step, and we can no longer see at all, which seems like a clear analogy for death, the ultimate fall.

Stumbling around in the dark as a metaphor for life calls to mind the famous quote for Milan Cunderra's novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. In it, Cundera addressed the tragic conundrum of living just one life, quote, there is no means of testing which decision is better because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold, and what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?

With the opening lines of circles, Mack taps into this inherent lack of experience, a universal reckoning with the fact we don't really know what it is we're doing, we can't exactly see where we're going. as much as we might try to use past experiences and collective wisdom to inform our decisions, we're all more or less shooting in the dark, always. Mac continues, and I don't have a name, I don't have a name, no. Throughout this season, we've touched on Mac's interest and identity,

especially as it relates to the inaccuracy of perception and the impossibility of really knowing someone else, especially a celebrity. Mac once tweeted, quote, I'm not even a real person to most of you. I am nothing but a name attached to something you love. most of you will never meet me." Here Mack makes an important distinction between his name, his brand, and who he really is. It's all too easy to get caught up in our projections of how we want the world to see us

to the point that we lose sight of who we truly are at our core. Mac relinquishing his name feels like a gesture toward ego death, of giving up man-made identifiers in order to tap into something more true, more eternal. Given Mac's sustained interest in Eastern thought, we might wonder if this line is an intentional nod to the face, opening lines of the Tao Dijing, the foundational text of Taoism, quote, The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao, the name that can be named is not the eternal name. In other words, what all this is and who we are defy linguistic descriptions.

As soon as you attach words to something, you immediately lose its essence. Thus Taoism strives towards emptiness, the loss of ego, desire, and attachments in order to harmonize and become one with the universe. Throughout circles, we will find Max striving to do the same, reaching a state of peace by relinquishing himself from desire and accepting the natural motion of the universe. Given that Mac's nameless line follows a line about death, we could also find yet another connection back to the final moments of swimming. Recall Max's last line from the last verse if so it goes. Just like a circle, I'll go back where I'm from. We are nameless before birth and return to a state of namelessness when we die.

While the legacy of our lives might be attached to a name, and we might still use words to describe how that legacy helps shape and influence those who are still alive. The legacy itself, like Dow, is formless. It is real yet amorphous. It is felt, but not with our senses. Finally, there's an off chance that Mack might be referencing a song called I Don't Have a Name, performed by the cartoon character Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. In an episode of the franchise's famed TV show,

Tigger takes a bath and loses his tiger stripes, which spawns a full-on identity crisis. He tries unsuccessfully to be a rabbit and then a bear. In other words, he tries to be something that he's not, and fails. At one point, he puts on a beekeeper mask that covers his face, and he stumbles around in the dark, guessing his direction, not being able to see at all. After hitting rock bottom, Tigger performs the short ballad, I Don't Have a Name. I know I, on the outside, but on the inside I feel the same.

Maybe someday I'll know who I am. But for right now, somehow, I don't have a name. In the song Tigger begins, I know I've changed on the outside, but on the inside I feel the same. Tigger is learning that he cannot be anything he's not. He thought he was defined by his stripes, by being a quote-unquote tiger, by the man-made constructs we've developed to simplify and more easily identify ourselves than the world around us. But when those things were taken from him, he discovered,

that they did not actually define him, that his true essence is within, defy his description, and cannot be lost, a very Taoist principle. In fact, there's a popular book called the Dow of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff that uses the characters of Winnie the Pooh to explain the basic principles of Taoism. As we discussed a few times in our analysis of swimming, Mack was influenced by children's cartoons and books, particularly because the childlike freedom of imagination allowed for ideas otherwise unreachable by the logical constraints of the adult mind, and Mac was always striving toward that aim to color outside the lines. While the odds of Mac intentionally referencing this episode of Winnie the Pooh are admittedly slim, the thematic connection is nonetheless ripe,

as the loss of name, the decentralization of identity, and focus on discovering and accepting one's true, nameless essence are all found in Mac's opening lines, and continue to develop as Mac resumes the verse. I'm going to blame who am I cannot be changed, I cannot be changed, you know. Trust me, I've tried. I'd send up right at the start of the line, drawing circles. Mack sings, Who am I to blame, who am I to blame, though? There seems to be some clever wordplay here, as Mac follows the line, I don't have a name,

with a line that starts with the phrase, Who Am I? The repetition of the phrase seems to accentuate its duality. In one sense, Mac might be asking who he is to blame others. This reading could continue the development of ego death, as Mac doesn't feel justified blaming others for their actions when he himself has made decisions that are far from perfect. On the other hand, Mac could be saying that he's the one being blamed for something, which seems to tie into the following lines,

and I cannot be changed, I cannot be changed, no. Trust me, I've tried, I just end up right at the start of the line, drawing circles. Like Tigger, Mac has tried and failed to change, seemingly unable to escape himself. If the essence of who we are is unnameable, then who is Mack to blame for his actions? Who are any of us to blame? We're all stumbling around in the dark,

doing the best with what we have. Like we heard Max strive toward throughout swimming, it seems rather than trying to change who he is, Mac is working toward accepting who he is to find peace with his flaws. It's a notion that producer John Bryan recognized and connected with right away. It wasn't platitudes.

He wasn't in the midst of selling himself in the act of writing lyrics. And I know a ton of people who do that. He did not. So I think saying like circles and a few other songs on this record, you hear him acknowledging aspects of himself, either that he doesn't feel capable of changing things, he thinks are questionable things.

You'll hear in the lyrics directly when, yeah, I'm this way. And I think other people might not understand how I think, but actually I'm okay with that. Like, it's so, it's so pointed. Mac, of course, uses the analogy of drawing circles to illustrate his inability to change. While picking up the pencil displays effort,

just like the act of swimming, he always finds himself back where he started. And the thing about a circle is that there's no defined end. You can literally outline it over and over forever. It seems that instead of struggling endlessly to escape an inescapable path, Mac is accepting it, enjoying the constant motion, the ups and downs inherit in the circular shape.

The lyrics I cannot be changed, I cannot be changed, you know, trust me I've tried, could certainly be interpreted as defeatist and nihilistic. But knowing Max's newfound acceptance of who he has tried, I just end up right at the start of the line drawing circles, could certainly be interpreted as defeatist and nihilistic. But knowing Max's newfound acceptance of who he is and all that life throws at us. They feel more like someone truly coming to terms with the realities of life and making peace with that reality. It's not depressing or pessimistic, it's real. It's someone no longer running, someone looking at his demons squarely in the eyes and extending his hand as a peace offering. To again quote Vic Weinstein, with circles, I saw the Malcolm that finally made peace with a lot of his demons, that opened him up to be able to accommodate this artistic growth and take mentally healthy strides. He was able to be genuinely happy, unquote.

This sense of peace and contentment is imbued in this track musically. The song is made up entirely of major chords, E major, A major, and D major. Chords we typically associate with happiness or brightness. If Mack chose instead to compose circles in a minor key with minor chords we typically associate with darkness or sadness, it's more likely we would interpret its lyrics with much more melancholy. Can you feel that difference? Mac choosing to score circles with the brighter major chords helps to convey that

undercurrent of optimism, peace, and hope in lyrics that could easily be mistaken as pessimistic. This sense of peace is a direct continuation of the end of swimming, where Mack used the phrase so it goes as a way to communicate a universal acceptance of the natural currents and turbulence of life and the inevitability of death. Of course, with this refrain, Mac establishes the primary motif of the album, Circles, which is rich with potential symbolic significance, as it's been used across cultures throughout history to express important philosophical or religious principles. we'll get into those and the rest of circles right after the break. Welcome back to Dissect.

Before the break we heard Mack established the primary symbol of the album, a circle. Within the immediate context of the verse's lyrics, a circle is used to represent his redundant efforts to change himself, though we viewed this more as a peaceful coming to terms with this fact rather than a pessimistic voicing of entrapment. But given that the circle is the album's central motif, not to examine some of the traditional symbolism attached to the circle,

as it's one of the more prominent and important symbols used across many cultures and religions. We can start by thinking about the shape itself. There is no beginning or end to a circle, and thus for many it reflects eternity. Every point of the circumference of a circle is equal distance from its center, and that invisible center point often represents God or the source of all energy and life, invisible yet omnipresent. Thus a circle contains the narrative of creation. In the beginning there was nothing, and from nothing there became consciousness.

represented by the circle's circumference. As conscious beings, we are all manifestations of the center point. Look around the world and the universe and we see circles everywhere. No naturally occurring straight lines exist in space. Our entire universe shifts and forms in the shape of a circle. Round planet circle or round sun. Adam circle their centered nucleus. Our thoughts circle our problems. It's an endless tapestry of overlapping circles, circles within circles, within circles. In Buddhism, there's a sacred symbol called Enzo, which means circle. This circle is created using only one brushstroke as a meditative practice in letting go of the mind and allowing the body to create, as the single brush stroke allows for no modifications. The result will naturally be an imperfect

circle, revealing the beauty and imperfection, the art of letting go of expectations, the acceptance of our innermost selves. This process embodies the no-mind concept, one of the central aspects of Zen Buddhism, where one is freed from thoughts, emotions, and desires, completely present in the now. Finally, the circle is said to embody the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. There's a beginning to life where the brush first touches the paper, and an end where the brush leaves the paper, but this beginning and end continue one after another, thereby signifying rebirth or reincarnation. On our last episode, we discussed how this idea is reflected in the way Mack structured his albums, how each are many lifetimes ending in death

and beginning in rebirth. These circular cycles seem central to Mack's process of growth and maturation, of letting a part of himself die so that new life could emerge. This album-to-cycle growth is felt in the opening verse of circles. Mac rescinds his name and gives up his redundant struggle to change, working to detach himself from our earthly concepts in order to tap into something formless and eternal, the pursuit of enlightenment, the void or emptiness within the circle. To again quote the Tao Dejing, the master sees things as they are without trying to control them. She lets them go their own way and resides at the center of the circle. Don't not be afraid, do not be afraid.

With the opening of verse 2, Mack sings, While I drink my whiskey, you sip your wine, went through a wall sitting, watching the world falling down, its decline. It's a riveting image, where Mac and a partner trinkly sip their beverage of choice, but rather than sitting in front of a relaxing fireplace, they are instead watching the world crumble before them. This once again displays Mack mindfully accepting the natural flow of the universe

and letting things take their course. And it also once again calls to mind the teachings of the Tao Te Ching, which states, quote, rushing into action, you fail, trying to grasp things, you lose them. Forcing a project to completion, you ruin what was almost ripe. Therefore, the master takes action by letting things take their course. He remains as calm at the end as at the beginning. He has nothing, thus has nothing to lose. What he desires is non-desire. What he learns is to unlearn. He simply reminds people of who they have always been." Cleverly, Mac uses rhythm to help contrast the tranquility of he and his partner versus the

crumbling world before them. When he sings, I sip my whiskey, there's a pause of three full beats before he sings, you sip your wine. It's relaxed, and each word is clear and precise. But then when describing the declining world, his delivery speeds up. The words and phrases are rapidly delivered in a continuous triplet flow, went through a wall sitting, watching the world falling down its decline. The rhythm reflects the first. frenzy of the world they watch. He then continues, I can keep you safe, I can keep you safe. Do not be afraid, do not be afraid. In the face of global disaster, Mack tenderly and selflessly offers himself as a source of comfort and protection, an inclination we also heard a few times

throughout swimming. On Dunno, Mac told his partner, until there is no longer, let's get lost inside the clouds, and you don't got to work harder, I can calm me down. Then on 2009, he wrapped, weight of the world, I gotta carry my own. With these songs, I can carry you home. I'm right here when you're scared and alone. And I ain't ever in a hurry. You don't never got to worry. By all accounts, these kind of selfless gestures towards his loved ones reflect Mack's real life personality. Mac's photographer Justin Boyd told the book of Mac, quote, He always made sure everybody was cool, especially in the studio. That was him 24-7. Obviously, the light always shined on him, but he made you feel the opposite.

You'd walk into a room and he'd be more excited to see you than you would be to see him. He made you feel like everyone was waiting for you to be there, unquote. Musician Asia Grant added, quote, For someone who was at his level, he was a very selfless guy. He made everybody feel loved and welcomed. We didn't deserve someone like that in this world. He always made everybody smile. You're feeling sorry.

I'm feeling fine. Don't you put any. more stress on yourself it's one day at a time. Getting pretty late, getting pretty late, and I find, as I keep counting the time, drawn circles. With the second half of verse two, Mack uses the same rhythmic variation to help contrast two different emotional states. He sings, you're feeling sorry,

then takes an ample breath before singing, I'm feeling fine. Then when talking about his partner's stress mind state, he again accelerates into a rapid delivery to portray that stress, singing, don't put any more stress on yourself, it's one day at a time. It's unclear what Mack's partner is feeling sorry about, perhaps they're feeling sorry about the declining state of the world, or feeling sorry for Mac himself. Either way, Mac assures this person that he's fine, encouraging them to adopt a similar mentality, to stay present in the moment, taking things as they

are one day at a time. This inclination to assure those around him was heard a few times throughout swimming, and it's something Mack discussed with Zane Lowe at the time of the album's release. You get the urge and the itch to tell people, don't worry, I'm okay, don't worry, I'm okay. Because, you know, like, I have people that care about me and fans that love my music, and it's a beautiful, a beautiful relationship with them of people who have been with me through being a 19-year-old,

wide-eyed kid to being a self-destructive, depressed drug user, to, you know, making love music, to all these different stages. And then they see something like that and they worry. So your first reaction is, let me tell them I'm cool. Several accounts from those closest to Mac describe his mental state before his passing as extremely positive. Once again, quoting Weinstein, with circles, there were a lot of things I noticed, emotionally, and otherwise

that he had finally made peace with. He was able to move forward and grow. That's why I think circles and swimming came together in such an awesome way, without so much grueling effort, because he was in a mental space where he can be okay with things. Before, that wasn't always the case, unquote. Mac then bridges the line one day at a time and its focus on time into the verse's conclusion. It's getting pretty late, getting pretty late, and I find it goes around like the hands that keep counting the time, drawing circles.

At the end of verse 1, Mack's hands were drawing the circles. Now it's the clock's rotating hands, time itself, symbolizing the circular nature of each day. In this way, the two are bonded. Our days are circles, and we move in circles within them. It's circles within circles within circles. Rather than become overwhelmed and dizzied in this circular maze, Mack tells his partner to take it one day at a time, one circle at a time, sage advised from someone who has once overwhelmed and dizzyed himself.

It's a continuation of Mack's emphasis on the present moment. The human mind invents things like clocks to, as Mac put it, count the time, to organize time linearly, conceptualizing time as a line we move forward on. But we remove the clock's hands and we are left with only a circle, revealing the true infinite nature of time that does not ever begin or end. Really, it doesn't matter what time it is because it's always right now. By accepting himself, letting go of expectations,

and rejecting our man-made manipulations of time, Max ceases to run in circles, allowing himself to be present in this infinite now, encouraging his partner and perhaps all of us to do the same. With these final lines, Mac exits I keep counting the time drawn circles. With these final lines, Mack exits the song, and it's at this point we can take a look at the track's overall structure,

which is in what's called verse refrain form. Verse refrain is a song form in which there are no contrasting sections like a chorus or a bridge. Rather, it contains only verses, with each verse ending with a repeated tag or refrain, which is usually the song's title. In this case, the verse refrain is drawing circles, as each amax two verses are punctuated with the phrase. Without the short refrain, a song comprised with just verses risks feeling ungrounded, with nothing familiar for our ears to latch onto or anticipate. With the refrain,

each verse has a clear and familiar arrival point, and the refrain can change meanings in interesting and surprising ways depending on the context of each verse. This form thus allows for deep exploration of a single topic, symbol, or motif. We saw this with Max drawing circle. In verse 1, Mac was the one drawing circles, and verse 2, it was time itself. As listeners, we can connect the dots and draw conclusions about the relationships between these various circles. While we can't know for sure, we might wonder if Mack's use of the verse refrain form was inspired by one of his favorite artists, Bob Dylan. Mac named the free-willing Bob Dylan as one of his 25 favorite albums of all time, and he's on record saying Dylan had a lot to do with gaining confidence in his singing voice.

quote, you just realize more and more the difference between a classically trained voice and your personal voice. Bob Dylan was someone who had a voice that was unlike anyone else. He wasn't hitting the wildest falsetto runs, you know what I mean? He was just putting a soul into it. When I sing, it's a very vulnerable state, very raw. It's me not worrying about where I fall on the spectrum of good singing, and more like how my voice is my instrument, unquote.

Bob Dylan is an absolute master of verse refrain form. We can take, for example, Don't Think Twice, It's All Right, for Mack's favorite Dylan album. The song is made up of four verses, each of them ending with the same refrain, which is also the song's title. When you rooster crows at the break of dawn, look out your window and I'll be gone. You're the reason I'm traveling on, but don't think twice, it's all right. Mack's perfect execution of a song form that is most closely associated with singer-songwriters deserves recognition. It displays the relentless efforts Mack made in pursuit to evolve into a more dynamic artist, and the natural talent required to adapt so quickly in different musical territories. After Mack

completes his final verse, Circles concludes with an extended musical outro, with Mack's bass playing suddenly accentuated by John Bryan's vibraphone, an intimate duet amongst musical legends. As we When we reached the end of the song, we find something interesting about the last chord played here. To understand why it's interesting, we have to back up a little and take a look at the chord progression used throughout the entire song. The majority of the progression is a back-and-forth between E-major and A-major, played three times total. After three repetitions, we get a D-major, sustained for an entire measure. After this sustained D-major, the chord progression starts over, returning again to that back-and-forth between E and A.

The E major that begins the progression is the song's home chord, its chord of resolution. In a typical song, this would be the final chord played, as it would provide a satisfying feeling of total resolution and completeness. Here's what that would sound like. Pretty satisfying, right? But this isn't what happens at the end of circles. Instead, the song ends on that D major chord. Without the return back to E major, the song technically ends unresolved, its open ended,

unless of course we start the song over. the end of the song tonally unresolved allows for the E major at its beginning to close the loop. It's yet another end tied to a beginning. That is to say, the song circles is a circle, an endless musical loop that reflects the very symbol the song and album is named after. What a beautiful image this creates, as Mack begins the album bringing us into the center of the circle with him. He sips his whiskey, we sip our wine, and together we'll traverse this album-long journey, no longer trying to control things, but rather, letting things take their natural chorus, peacefully observing the circles within circles, within circles.

This episode of Dysect was written by Camden Ostrander and me. If you enjoyed today's episode, please tell a friend about the show or share on social media. It really helps. Theme music by Bureaucratic. Instrumental recreations by Andrew Atwood. Audio editing by Eric Bass and me. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.